TBA
by UponConspection
Summary: Abandoned by the Dursleys at a young age with nothing but a single penny, Harry finds a different way into the wizarding world. AU
1. Explanatory Author's Note

**_Please read this before continuing, or you may be very confused._**

I read a HP fanfiction a few years ago, of which I don't remember the title or the author, which I have since been unable to find. In it Harry Potter was abandoned early on by the Dursleys, and then went on to become a world famous duelist, by the pseudonym Joseph Seward (I think), known for wearing his trademark black beanie, which he used to cover his scar while dueling. I remember enough about certain scenes that I _should_ be able to find the story again via Google, but have yet achieve any success.

The following fanfiction will be based as close to that story as I can remember, given that I read it once, several years ago. Most of the plot up to a certain point will not be my own. I'll try to indicate which is remembered and which is my creative license filling in the gaps. Given the already developed plot and my somewhat sketch memory, I'll be posting chapters as I remember them, which may or may not be chronologically, and will definitely be very confusing if you didn't read the original.

If anyone who reads this knows where the original is or who the author is, please tell me. If the original author decides that they don't want me playing with (and probably horribly massacring) their ideas, feel free to tell me and I'll take this down.

If not... turn the page.


	2. Beginning

_A.N. Wow, I'm amazed. People have already favorited this story. Does that mean I'm just _that good_ at writing summaries and author's notes? or does someone other than me actually remember the original. If so: PM me or review with what parts you remember, or else I may disasterously mangle what was written. Even if you _don't_ remember the original, still give me ideas; I have to fill in all the holes in my memory by myself. _

_This chapter is the scene closest to the beginning that I remember, so it shouldn't be confusing, unlike later ones._

* * *

"That's a nasty scar ya got." The young boy spun, searching for the origin of the voice. "It makes ya stick out, makes ya different." What he had thought was just a heap of rubbish, near the mouth of the alley rose, revealing a man, filthy, reeking, and obviously drunk.

"Some people don't like different. Some people might take offense, and ya don't want that." The drunk staggered closer as the child shrunk back deeper into the shadows. "I can help ya there. See, I've got this-" here the man paused, fumbling in his pocket before flourishing a crumpled newspaper clipping which he blinked blearily at. "That's not it." His alcohol fogged eyes searched the ground around his feet, then lit upon a scrap of black fabric under his foot.

"Here we go." He waved it at the boy, who watched the object warily, uncertain how whatever the rag was could help him.

"What is it?"

"What is it! This, my boy. This is-" the drunk paused again to examine the object in his hands. "a hat! Some of the best things for covering up nasty scars, are hats. Good for disguises too. Not even your own mother'd recognise ya under this. Ya want it?"

The boy took a few tentative steps closer to the drunk, staring hungrily. With a bit more information he could tell that it really was a hat. A beanie to be precise, and more than large enough to pull down and cover his forehead. The boy stretched out a hand towards it, only for it to be yanked out of reach suddenly, almost upsetting the already uncertian balance of the drunk who had made the motion.

"Not so fast. See, this here hat is mine right now, and I'm not running a charity. What are ya going ta give me for it?"

The boy was stumped. When Uncle had thrown him out of the car three days ago and told him to run off, Uncle hadn't left him any thing but the clothes on his back and a single penny, thrown spitefully out of the window as he drove off, with a hollered, "don't spend this all at once!" He couldn't afford to lose his clothes, it was already cold at nights without anywhere proper to sleep, and his penny...

He pulled it out of the pocket of his oversized pants to look at once again. It was the only reminder of the family he'd spent the last six years of life with, and hateful though they may be, he had still been fed, which was more than he could say for the last few days on the streets.

If there was one thing the Dursleys had taught him was that money was important. Very important. Uncle talked about it all the time; complained about taxes going up and his pay going down, ranted about how the boy was costing him a fortune to keep. Money was important, and if he only had a penny, how important could he be himself?

"What do ya have there, boy? A penny? That's it? Waste of effort." The drunk's eyes took on a more sinister gleam. "Hey kid, maybe there's something else ya can give me for this hat."

The boy didn't like this, he didn't like this at all. He didn't want to give up his penny, and he didn't want to find out what else could be given as payment. Aunt had always told Dudley to stay away from strangers, but there were nothing but strangers here. Uncle and Aunt had been on vacation with Dudley, when the vase he was standing by had gotten bumped off the table and down to the floor in a million pieces. Uncle had been furious, had thrown him in the rental, drove him to the darker part of the city, and left him alone with all the strange strangers who wanted things he didn't want to think about.

"Come on kid, come here. I'll give ya the hat if ya come here and give me that shiny penny," the drunk cooed, or tried to. What it ended up sounding like wasn't as reassuring as intended. The boy looked from the drunk, swaying on his feet from the alcohol, to mouth of the alley, to the hat hanging just out of reach.

The boy ran for it, slipping by just out of reach of clumsy, grasping fingers. Fingers which were no longer holding the beanie as the boy darted past and jammed it down over his head, concealing a famous scar and forcing down messy bangs to cover his distinctive green eyes, and creating a symbol which would become just as famous one day.


	3. Wizarding World via Drunken Tourist

_A.N. You people are weird. I've written _one_ chapter (two now) and already this story is the favorite of 6 people. It's not even a good story! Most of it has been written when I'm half asleep. Heck, its not really even _my_ story! (maybe that's why people like it.) And FYI: after two chapters in one day, you're probably not getting another for a few months. Sorry._

_For the previous chapter, the only part I really remember is that Harry had a penny, he didn't want to give it up, and he ended up stealing his hat from someone on the streets. The rest is mainly creative licence. This next chapter includes Harry's introduction into the wizarding world. I'll try to think of some way to introduce his pseudonym (I think it was Joseph Seward, but am not extremely certain), if anyone has any suggestions I would appreciate help; my muse is overworked and undermotivated with school now. Also, the italicised part in the middle is the pamphlet for those who may be confused._

* * *

_Two Years Later..._

He was in an alley again, with a strange stranger between him and the main street. It was a scenario that had happened unpleasantly often in the last few years, and he'd had plenty of practice getting out of said scenarios. This stranger was even stranger than most, though, and was obviously dead drunk, slumped against the wall and mumbling about "Taxes? how th'bloody hell am I s'posed to get a _ride_ in taxes? I never learned the intanca- incenta- spell to do that."

The boy tried to sneak past-it was always better to try to avoid the notice of crazy drunk people-with little success. The man, who looked like he was wearing a house coat and little else, noticed and called out.

"Hey, boy, what's a bloke t'say when he wants t'ride the taxes?" Alcoholic waved a (liquor soaked) pamphlet at the boy, "The letters are all fuzzy, read it for me and I'll get you something," before passing out in a pile of (also liquor soaked) rubbish.

Being the opportunistic, money-hungry scoundrel the boy was, and having been promised money which he didn't want to lose due to untimely naps by the person offering, the boy used the opportunity to raid the unconscious man's bathrobe pockets. What he found only furthered the case for the man having a less than sane state of mind. Really, what kind of person carries around a stick, a brochure about "muggle" vacations, and a small sack filled with _gold_? Someone might be tempted to rob him.

After hiding a couple of the golden coins in the lining of his very battered and dirty shoes, as well as shoving a few into the ever-present black beanie on his head, the boy turned to the paper, curious of what a "muggle" was. Maybe some obscure country in Africa?

* * *

_Vacations in the Muggle World: An Introductory Guide_

_Chapter I: The Basics_

_So you want to explore the Muggle World? Excellent idea, a vacation like this can be fun, fascinating, and a great way to relax and get away from it all.__ Before you go though, make sure to remember this one very important thing:_

Muggles do not have Magic_. _

_In fact, most muggles don't even believe in magic, and it is illegal in most countries to tell them about it . Because of this, it is also suggested that you do not preform any obvious spells in public while in a muggle place, so don't go whipping out your wand with sparks flying. If you are planning on spending a few months or years outside of any wizarding community, we suggest you learn at least basic wandless magic to make life easier; subtle things like weightless charms can come in handy and are almost unnoticeable when_ _preformed wandlessly (for more information see Chapter IV: Wandless Theory, Application, and Handy Tips, Tricks, and Charms)._

_This may seem a little daunting to first time travelers, but don't worry, this guide has been specifically designed with the average witch or wizard in mind. And, even if you do mess up and someone finds out, almost every country has some form of obliviation squad ready to erase the muggles' memories of your slip up (for more detail see Chapter VII: International Laws). Just keep your wand handy in case of the unexpected and enjoy your time in the muggle world._

* * *

Magic.

A beanie covered head turned to look at the _wizard_ snoozing on a nearby trash heap.

Magic.

So _that's _what the stick was for...


End file.
